


Overextension

by Doctor_Discord



Series: The Ego Manor [6]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood, Fights, Prophetic Visions, Protectiveness, Unconsciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 16:42:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16706125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Discord/pseuds/Doctor_Discord
Summary: Dark and Wilford have a fight, and, due to their power, it threatens to end in chaos and blood. The Host steps in, even at the expense of his own safety.





	Overextension

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyyyy! I just...I just love the Host, so, even if it's short, I have GOT to write more stories about him! So here we are, and enjoy!

The egos were in a meeting.

And it was getting _violent._

Darkiplier and Wilford were the perfect couple: disgustingly in love, constantly pampering the other, and conveniently turned a blind eye whenever the other decided to commit a few murders. But they still had their fights. And, due to the incredible power they both held, those fights could get _ugly_.

“Wil, some of your _previous_ ideas have been…unorthodox, but this is just _inane_. You’re veering us off track. I think it’s time for you to take a seat.” Dark’s voice was smooth, but the angry buzz of his ringing betrayed his fury.

Wilford’s face turned red. “ _I_ appear to be the only one who’s even trying to _at all_ ,” he hissed. “Why don’t you get off your _bloody_ high-horse and come up with something yourself! Or are you too content to just sit there as a pretty figure head?”

Dark scowled, and King let out a yelp as the glass door behind him shattered. “I think your mind is more broken than we thought. Perhaps we really _do_ need to lock you up as Ed Edgar so constantly insists.”

The cowboy instantly paled as Wilford wheeled on him. “H-hey, don’t bring _me_ into this!”

Google let out an exasperated sigh. “We are getting off topic. Let us get back to the matter at hand.”

Suddenly Wilford was holding a knife that he definitely didn’t have before, clearly preparing to throw. “Can it, you stupid robot!”

“ _ENOUGH!_ ”

The egos only had time to turn their attention to the source of the shout before they were locked in place, unbelievable power washing over them in waves. Instantly the Host knew he had overextended himself – he could feel both Dark and Wilford twitching. He couldn’t quite grasp the powerful egos on a _good_ day, with all his focus solely on making them obey. Now, trying to keep them frozen while simultaneously keeping a firm hold on the others as well, he could feel them chipping away at his grasp.

Still, he stood strong, arms spread wide. He was growing paler by the second, blood streaming down his cheeks, panting heavily. He swallowed once before speaking. “If the egos continue on this path, many will be injured and one will die.” In his mind’s eye, he could see one of the Jims lying in a pool of blood, the other screaming his name and shaking his unmoving body. His own body shook under the strain he was putting on it; he could feel King beginning to shift now. He turned to Dr. Iplier, sweating and pale as bone, blood juxtaposing harshly with his skin. “When the Host lets go…” He paused for a breath. He could sense his doctor’s concern; he was practically radiating it. “…get him to the clinic.”

He dropped his arms and promptly crumpled to the floor, out cold.

* * *

When the Host woke, he was greeted by an agonizing headache and the feeling of fresh, soft bandages over his sockets. He knew almost immediately that he was in Dr. Iplier’s office; that trademark sterilized smell gave it away. He placed a hand to his forehead, grinding the heel into his skin, letting out a soft groan of discomfort.

He jumped when a gentle hand pried his away. “Hey hey hey, no offense, but I don’t trust your hands anywhere _near_ your face, considering they usually end up shoved in your sockets in a panic. What’s wrong?”

The Host smiled, letting out a hoarse chuckle. “Doctor.” He was caught by surprise by the harsh cough that bubbled up in his throat. “It’s nothing. The Host just has a headache.”

Dr. Iplier hummed in response. “I’m not surprised. You’re a moron, you know that? Trying to control _all_ of us at once? You overextended yourself in a major way, you’re lucky a headache’s the only thing you’ve got.”

The Host shrugged. “It is a necessary discomfort. The Host would rather bear this pain than allow the egos to destroy each other.”

He felt Dr. Iplier wince, letting go of his hand. “They both feel guilty you know. Dark and Wilford, I mean. Dark hasn’t left his office in hours and Wilford’s visited about a dozen times. Hey _don’t_ try to sit up, you’ll only make it worse.” The doctor pushed him back down, tutting softly. “Go back to sleep. You’re drained; it’s obvious. We’ll all still be here when you wake up, I promise.”

The Host gave a little sigh, settling himself back on the pillows, and let his mind fade to black once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Well that was fun! Yeah it is short, but it's cute and I love it!


End file.
